


Killing Butterflies.

by RektTheDemonKing



Series: Short song stories. [1]
Category: Music - Fandom
Genre: Song references, Written for a Class, detailed death, extra credit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26368081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RektTheDemonKing/pseuds/RektTheDemonKing
Summary: “Now, I know we have been over this a number of times by now. But we still believe you are hiding something from us, please tell us again, what happened on January twenty-six, year of twenty twenty-three?”
Relationships: None
Series: Short song stories. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916185
Kudos: 2





	Killing Butterflies.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS VERY GRAPHIC! 
> 
> If you don't like death then please don't read. I am just posting this cause I really enjoy what I wrote. The Song I chose to reference this is "Killing Butterflies" from Lewis Blissett. I added lines that are basically lyrics but one or two words are changed to fit the narrative.

“Now, I know we have been over this a number of times by now. But we still believe you are hiding something from us, please tell us again, what happened on January twenty-six, year of twenty twenty-three?”

The room was bland, grey walls, one painting of a barn with cows and a fence, a summer day it looks like. The man was in a white coat with black slicked-back hair and glasses covering those piercing green eyes that were almost staring into the soul. He was sitting in the chair on the other side of the medal table.

Nothing was on this table, besides the man’s notepad and his pencil. The writing on the notepad was clean, focused on what was said, and notes of what questionable things were said. Pencil, yellow with a pink eraser. Sharpened, skin piercing sharp. Such a fool the man was. Having such a weapon next to him.

“…I told you this before over and over again Doctor. Where do you want me to begin?” The man narrowed his green eyes and he sighed heavily.

“Where you believe is best to start.” He said angrily, his voice low and challenging. Anger. Such a fragile thing, it could morph into any kind of emotion. Rage, love, hunger. So many possibilities. So many options.

“When I was a child doctor, I was born special. I was raised to stay near my big brother. Stay close to him, they said, he will keep you safe, they said. They were right, for a time.” The man was looking over his notes, his eyebrows furrowed. “For what’s worth doctor I will spare you the details, he was taken from me. Easily swayed he was. Easily forgetful as we grew.” The doctor raised his head and tilted his head in confusion.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, his pencil on the notepad, ready to take notes of everything that has yet to be said, so easily swayed. “Well doctor, as I said, I was born differently. As we grew, those he talked to were… hurtful towards me. Angry towards me. Eventually, he became such a way as well.”

The doctor wrote some sentences and stopped to think. His eyes pointed up towards the ceiling thinking of what possibly could be wrong or what he could decipher what was being said. Joy was a fragile thing but that was all running through the veins. He was thinking. Enjoyment followed.

“He wasn’t the only one that started to feel that way. My parents followed shortly after, because of being different from everyone they were angry at me. For what I do not know. But as I aged into high school it got worse.” The man in at the other end of the table was reading his notes aggressively. “But, one person stood out.” The doctor raised his head and leaned forward, practically begging for more.

“She was a beautiful girl. The only person who was nice. Brown long hair always braided, lightly tanned skin, beautiful sky blue eyes. She was like a butterfly. Such a beautiful being.”

“What was her name.” The doctor demanded. Joy and enjoyment left the veins and they were filled with anger.

“Let me finish!” He jumped back in shock, almost out of his chair, amusement must have been the emotion. It felt like a warm bath. “She didn’t care that I was different. Apparently she was different too, wasn’t able to talk to me. We talked via notes. Oh how I wish to hear her voice at least once… But her father took that from her, made her drink burning hot coffee from the pot, freshly made. Burned her throat and voice box to the point she couldn’t talk. I got angry. Rightfully so, who would dare hurt a beautiful butterfly?”

The doctor gulped down a knot in his throat and was shaking as he started to write more notes. “What was the girl's name, if you don’t mind me asking?” He asked.

“The father was a screamer. Heh. Hahahaha. Oh, how his voice died after drinking the acid down his throat.” The doctor stopped at stared. His eyes widened before hastily making more notes. “He didn’t last after that. Apparently sulfuric acid doesn’t digest well in the human body.”

“When was this?”, “Oh, it was a long time ago, back in sophomore year. Twenty twenty-one I believe.” More notes were taken. “Twenty twenty-three. Senior year. People started to figure out what was special to me. Started to hurt me and her. Why hurt such a butterfly. I wanted to hurt them badly but I couldn’t. She would hate me so much if I hurt them and her in the process. So I took it. All of it. All the slurs, hatred, disgust, and beatings to prove to her I wasn’t a monster like they were saying.”

The man frowned before putting down the pencil. He didn’t say anything but looked like he was processing everything. “January twenty-four.” He looked confused. “That was when I saw them hurt her. They beat her so badly. She had broken ribs, both her arms broken, you could tell she was hit in the head very hard cause there was a gash so deep you could see her skull. Her left leg was broken in so many places.” He started to look terrified. “I knew who did it too. They came to me earlier that day saying things about watching her. They made me **Shiver like a leaf.** I went to look for her. I couldn’t find her until I went outside and saw her laying outside near the back of the school.”

“I waited. Two days I waited. Wednesday. The middle of the week. I was ready. One by one. Mathew Jakes. He was the first. I met him in the hallway to the gym and I hit him in the back of the head with a bad and took him to the locker room. Stabbed him repeatedly in the shower. With the water on. I hid his body in the bin where they throw the towels.”

The doctor wrote faster and faster. “Next was Briana Cabalist. She was in the girls’ bathroom smoking alone. I asked her friends and made a lie saying I liked her and wanted to ask her out and they told me exactly where she was. When I knew she was smoking I grabbed the water bottle of a mixture of Ricin and Soman with water and walked directly to the bathroom she was in. I opened the door and walked up to her. She was looking at the window so she didn’t see me. I pushed her face against the windowsill so hard it knocked her out. I pulled her into a stall and well… made her drink the substance. She drowned drinking it.”

The doctor froze before continuing. “The next one was Briana’s boyfriend. Francis. I couldn’t touch him so what I did was I sabotaged his car. Mainly his breaks. He liked to speed. And not wear his seatbelt. I heard he died after smashing his car against a semi. Poor lad. The last one died a painful death. James Hope. He figured out my secret. My problem. My curse. I wanted him to see it fully. Show him how bad it can truly be. So I did. **His faith, hope, some other things were meant to be gone broke**.”

The doctor stopped writing and looked up at me with eyes widened. “And… what is your curse?” He asked. I stared right into his eyes and tilted my head. “You want to know?” I asked as a large grin appeared on my face from ear to ear. “I can give you a hint. Some people don’t believe we exist. While some believe and are afraid. Like they should.”

“James hope was found with his organs, eyes, and brain were torn out of his body and partly eaten at his house while his parents were away.” The doctor said quietly. The doctor’s eyes bulged before gulping in fear. “What are you?” He asked weakly.

“I, my dear doctor, am a beast. A creature created by men. Men that were hungry and weak, couldn’t go hunting, the **only thing they had was their appetite** , just a little meat **just a little to stabilize**. Only had their weaker, more frail friend. I am a-“

“Wendigo…” The doctor said softly and I grinned widely. “And I am hungry,” I said with anger licking at my lips. I started to thrash against the chains wrapped around me. Started to bang the chains at my hands against the table, bending it each time I hit the table. The doctor got up and rushed over to the door.

“SOMEONE GET THE POLICE!” He yelled and many police rushed into the room seconds later, not seeing a young man. But a beast, a beast with a human-like body but a deer-like head with antlers that go up and out a foot long and branching off many directions. The deer head was a skull with wolf-like teeth. All the police grabbed their guns and raised them at the beast and the beast stopped thrashing around.

A low gurgling voice echoed from the beast’s mouth. **_“_** _I_ _… was… going… to… have… a friend… someone… I could… refer to… But they KILLED HER!_ ** _THEY WERE KILLING BUTTERFLIES!”_** The beast roared as it stood, breaking the chains that held it in place, the police shot at this creature. But it jumped at them.

Nothing was on this table, besides the man’s notepad and his pencil. The writing on the notepad was clean, focused on what was said, and notes of what questionable things were said.

_Elliott Max. Age 20. Male. Brown eyes, Brown hair. 6’6” and 236 lbs._

_Arrested for Murder of Mathew Jacks, Briana Cabalist, Francis Smith, James Hope, and Gabriella Miller._

_Diagnosed with Intermittent Explosive Disorder (IED), Has explosive outbursts of anger, often point of rage. Diagnosed with Schizophrenia. Talks to themselves and talks in the third person view most cases, moods change like they are a completely different person. Diagnosed at a young age with Dependent Personality Disorder, was often attaching himself to others, mainly those that didn’t “treat him differently.”_

_Notes of Day 365 th: _

_“Born Special”, “Stuck close to Michelle Max until middle school age, Brother and parents berated him at a young age”,_

_“Beautiful girl called her a butterfly”_

_Killed her father for making her mute. Made him Drink Sulfuric Acid._

_Said Mathew Jacks, Briana Cabalist, Francis Smith, and James Hope beat the girl to the point of going to the hospital._

**_Shiver like a leaf._ **

_Killed Mathew Jacks by stabbing him in the locker room._

_Killed Briana Cabalist by drowning her._

_Killed Francis Smith by sabotaging his breaks in his car._

_Killed James Hope by eating his organs alive._

**_His faith, hope, some other things were meant to be gone broke._ **

**_The only thing they had was their appetite._ **

**_Just a little more to stabilize._ **

At the bottom of the page, new handwriting showed a new sentence. Written poorly and in this red liquid.

**_I stayed up all night, Killing butterflies._**

**Author's Note:**

> Well hell. Welcome to the end of this mad hell hole that I made. If you liked it please consider leaving a Kudos and a comment. If you have any ideas on song recommendations for me to write a short story about next leave a comment below along with any good feedback you want to give.


End file.
